DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything that I am writing.
Westeros.
Uncreatively named so for it is the last continent to the west of the known world. A land of kings and lords forever vying for power and prestige, swords and shields clashing in a conflict driven by a society spanning from the time when the First Men stepped foot upon these lands and fought titanic battles against legends, and a Night that seemed to never end.
Nowadays the legends have long since faded until only those from above the Neck remember, the coming of the Andlas bringing with them a hatred for all things 'unholy' according to their seven-faced god, and all things fell into a pattern: build up, war, lowering of tensions and consolidation of gains, maybe an attempt at getting past the Neck and failing, a brief period of peace, then repeat.
Then the Ironborn took over the Riverlands in a bloody war of conquest and pillaging, one particularly ambitious or mad King of Hoare line building the largest castle anyone has ever seen. The Rivermen's treasures, goods and people were funneled towards the construction in a tyrannical method of kingship that has the already resentful people and their lords simmering with anger to the brink of rebellion. All things considered, while rightful their rebellion would result in more losses against the Ironborn, the reavers being smart enough to ensure their conquered subjects remain remain underarmed for any such attempts at freedom. Indeed, during their muster the gathered Riverlords have steeled themselves for a campaign wrought with difficulties and the odds stacked many times against them, their men under them grimly resolved to either a bloody victory or a bloody defeat. Dying mattered little to them now, tired of the depredations they have long suffered under the sea-born conquerors.
So it was to their surprise, that the first few skirmishes and the first battle they fought were won with much less losses on their part. The Ironborn did respond to their rebellion, but the number of men they have brought were rather... small. Oh sure the rebellion was not all sunshine and roses, the reavers making great use of the plentiful rivers to strike at villages and key points behind the Rivermen's lines, but their raids were scattered and uncoordinated enough to be, if not easily, repulsed or destroyed, and the Ironborn hosts they have fought were the same, oftentimes the rebels even outnumbered their foes, being made up of traitor Riverlord levies and garrisoned reavers of lower ability. Onwards they went, liberated towns and villages welcoming them with great relief, opening to them what stores of food and supplies they have left when, the Riverlords were told, the Ironborn supposedly 'protecting' them were called away towards the west, and back to the Iron Islands.
"A gret' callin' was sent by the bastard Harren, milords." A leader of a liberated town shared to the rebel leaders, spitting on the ground at the mention of the current King, Harren Hoare. "I dinay' hear much, jus' that the home islands of them iron lovers are bein' attacked by somethin'. Heh, about time it happen, I reckon." The gathered Rivermen could scarcely believe their luck. The news has spread further in the gathered armies, grim moods buoyed by more hope than before, morale improving at the thought that freeing themselves from the hated Ironborn could actually happen. 'They could do it!' was the thought of many an armsman and levy, and the future of the Riverlands looked ever so much more brighter.
But for the Ironborn, the end of a violent and feared people has recently begun. And it is not stopping anytime soon...